Chapter 6
Rowan
I love my sister, really, I do. But sometimes, I want to throttle her. Like now, after she’s set me up on yet another date, which is bound to fail. She’s been on a pointless mission to help me find someone to connect with. I never asked for her help, and I’m sure as hell not looking for any romantic connections.
Melanie says I have a problem—emotional detachment disorder. I swear, I’m going to find all of her psychology books and burn them. It’s not a disorder if I’m the one who chooses not to make emotional attachments. I make physical connections just fine. Sex is my goddamn hobby and I excel at it. I’m happy with the way I am, but it isn’t good enough for Mel.
A puppy hasn’t fixed me in the space of one week, so she’s gone back to hooking me up with her acquaintances. Mel is a sweetheart and one of the few people I care about, so I like to humor her. On this Thursday night, my date is Emily, a thirty-three-year-old financial advisor. She’s a pretty blonde, she’s smart and age-appropriate. Problem is, all I’m interested in is sampling her for one night. And she’s boring me near to tears. Nothing meaningful will come out of this date.
Admittedly, our crappy date isn’t all on her. My mind isn’t in this. It’s stuck on a certain woman who I pulled out of a burning building two days ago. I connected with her... or, I think I did. I sure felt a hell of a lot chatting with her.
“So, you’re a firefighter.” Emily pulls my thoughts back from Grace Lawson. She’s flashing pearly whites. “That’s hot.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Literally.”
Her high-pitched laughter almost makes me wince. It’s like claws on a chalkboard. The joke wasn’t even that funny. I study Emily, who’s in stitches over my lame attempt at humor. She’s been trying too hard our entire date, and it’s exhausting and irritating. I can already tell she’s superficial. I’ve been with enough women to easily come to that conclusion.
My mind wanders back to Grace. A few minutes of conversation and I perceived she was genuine and sweet. A little too sweet. She’s still guilty about ruining her sister’s sweater at the age of twelve, for crying out loud. Recalling her amusing confessions, my lips twitch, and soon I’m smiling.
Emily beams, probably thinking I’m smiling at her.
My smile probably looks more like a lascivious smirk now because I’m thinking about Grace’s virgin status and all the filthy things I can do to corrupt her. Things she’ll enjoy.
“Do you want to get out of here, Rowan?” Emily purrs. “Maybe go to your place or mine?”
My fantasy of claiming the innocent Grace comes to a halt. Blinking, I snap my attention to my date. “What?” She has that suggestive look, which means she thinks I was leering at her. I kind of feel bad for inadvertently leading her on. “No, I mean, I do want to get out of here, but alone.”
Emily frowns.
“There’s something I have to take care of. It’s urgent.”
Damn straight, it’s urgent. I’d gotten the text about Grace being awake before my date with Emily started, but I’d decided not to do anything with the information. Now, I feel like I have to see her. Maybe that’s the only way I’ll get her out of my head. I need to get her out of my thoughts tonight because my fixation is bordering on insane.
“Oh...” Emily sits back with a look of disappointment.
I’m sure she thought we hit it off. Her type usually thinks a man will never turn her down.
***
“What am I doing?” Iask myself as I stand in front of the medical center. The smart thing to do would be to stay away from Grace. She’ll recover and get her life together and forget about me. The sight of me will probably trigger PTSD or something.
I actually turn around, intending to get back in my car and leave. Of course, then I turn back around and head through the door.
Damn it.
I’m just concerned about her, as I would be for any other fire victim. At least, that’s what I tell myself when I’m standing outside Grace’s door.
The nurses are acquainted with members of the nearby fire department. They think it’s sweet that we often enquire about the victims we rescue. That’s how I could keep tabs on Grace... to an extent. The only information I could get was that she’s awake.
I knock on the door and wait. A part of me hopes she’s asleep so I can leave. I just feel like I should leave the woman alone. She owes me nothing.
“Come in.” The soft invitation causes another one of those kicks in my gut.
“I really need to get a grip,” I murmur and open the door.
Grace is sitting up. Without the soot and dirt, I can finally see her.
Her skin is pale, but I think it’s the white gown she’s wearing and the fluorescent lighting that’s washing her out a little too much. Her hair is a rich brown with reddish undertones. The tangled strands hang well past her shoulders.
Wide, almond-shaped eyes are fixed on me. They’re intriguing. From here, I can make out that one iris is a gunmetal gray while the other is a pale blue. I’d found her unique in personality. It figured she’d be unique in looks, too. Grace is... beautiful, just as I thought she’d be.
“Uh... hi,” she says with a frown. “Who are you?”
Well, fuck. This is embarrassing. I should lie and tell her I’m in the wrong room. Before I open my mouth, she gasps.
“Wait.” Sitting taller, she asks, “Are you Rowan?”
My stance relaxes. “Hi, Grace.”